


Underpromotion

by flamewarflipsides



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Chess, Dark of the Moon, F/M, Games, Gen, Psychology, Size, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamewarflipsides/pseuds/flamewarflipsides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After taking a great deal of damage during the final battle of <i>Dark of the Moon</i>, Optimus isn't fit for field duty. Director Mearing helps him pass the time with a not so friendly game of chess. Who will come out on top as they discuss the finer points of Autobot/Human relations? <b>Heavy</b> spoilers for <i>Dark of the Moon</i>, as well as slight shippy undertones. An entry for "Games" week at LiteraryFanfiction on Deviantart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underpromotion

He leaned away from the table, and she leaned into the sunlight he left behind.

“I cannot thank you enough for keeping me occupied while I wait for replacement parts for my arm,” he noted as she moved a pawn.

“It’s the least I can do after you saved all our asses, Optimus,” she offered with a smirk, folding her hands in her tiny lap. “After we kicked you out, no less.”

“Your hands were tied.” He grabbed the white queen and tapped her pawn with it, delicately switching the minuscule pieces between his fingers and taking the black pawn off the board. “There was nothing you could have done. Such is a peril of democracy, of bureaucracy.”

She leaned back in, brushing a wisp of blonde hair out of her face. Then she hopped a black knight over toward his queen, horse-headed piece dwarfing her hand even as his queen towered over it.“I don’t know. Maybe people will listen to me this time. You’d damn well better.”

“We are both bound by the law, and yet our laws differ,” he dithered, sliding his queen out of the way.

“It’s easier for you to play by our rules than for us to play by yours,” She snapped, pointing at him with a hand that couldn’t wrap around his finger. “And you don’t want to do that. It’s checkmate if you do.”

He looked down at his king, finally noticing the black bishop a board away from it. “What do you mean?”

“If you get fed up with me, you could pick me up and fling me away like a piece of lint. You can take over whole cities with a few bots.” She slid a rook across the board. “If I get fed up with you, all I can do is yell, maybe send an army. I’m not a threat.” She looked away, strange little eyes focused on something behind him. “He shot Ironhide. He talked to me.”

“We all have our limits. You are limited by your biology, your firepower… as Sam was by his prestige.”

“Not the same.” She put both hands on the table, leaning in. “You earn prestige. Prestige is defined by your group. Even picking Megatron apart for years, we still can’t match your technology.”

He suppressed a shudder at her words and moved his rook. “Check.”

She slammed her own queen into it, sending it clattering to the floor. “Check yourself. We’ll never be able to compete one-to-one. As long as you people are here, you have an obligation to keep things fair. And you’re the only one I’m willing to trust to do that. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about Chernobyl. And mate.” 

She looked up at him with those blue eyes, and he frowned. “I’m sorry for the lack of faith you have in humanity. After all, it was Sam who saved both our people. Thank you for the game, Director Mearing.”

“Charlotte. We’re off the clock.”


End file.
